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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475147">like a star falls (in fewer words)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicole_writes/pseuds/nicole_writes'>nicole_writes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action &amp; Romance, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, F/M, Ingrid Brandl Galatea Being a Badass, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Romantic Tension, With a Healthy Side of Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:29:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475147</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicole_writes/pseuds/nicole_writes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ingrid closes her eyes and takes a deep, bracing breath. “I still think this is a terrible idea.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Sylvain shrugs, still too relaxed for her taste. “We know they’re trying to hit Dimitri. We might as well be ahead of them, right? Send them to the wrong side?”</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>like a star falls (in fewer words)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello and welcome to yet another fic i did not mean to write. friday night i was just trying to go to bed when i was struck with the unstoppable urge to write this and somehow it ended up being nearly 10k. </p>
<p>warnings include some mild violence (mostly just ingrid kicking ass and taking names) and the general implications surrounding a mob au.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So,” Sylvain says, leaning forward. “What’s my job tonight?”</p>
<p>“Attention,” Felix snaps, fidgeting with his Fraldarius-branded cufflinks. </p>
<p>Ingrid lifts a foot, placing it atop a chair, and adjusts the holster strapped around her right thigh. She sighs. “This is still, in my opinion, a bad plan.”</p>
<p>“Unfortunately, it’s the only plan we have,” Dimitri points out. “We know Edelgard wants to hit me tonight. She expects me at the gala. It’s too high stakes for me not to be out tonight.”</p>
<p>Dedue frowns. “And why then, are we going to the casino instead?”</p>
<p>“Because,” Felix answers, “I’m going to the gala. The whole plan is to split the attention. We know Edelgard is watching me, Dimitri, and Sylvain most closely. She wants to hit all three of us, but Dimitri is the one that really matters.”</p>
<p>“I’m already scheduled for an appearance at the casino,” Sylvain adds helpfully. He adjusts his custom-tailored suit. “Sending me there is on-brand. And since Felix has to go to the gala, we just send Dimitri to the casino which means we only have to redistribute men, instead of creating an all-new plan.”</p>
<p>Ingrid drops her leg down off the chair and adjusts her dress. It’s a long, glittery, navy thing with a high slit up one leg. She has a small knife and a spare magazine strapped to her left leg and her gun is fixed to her right. Her expensive-looking necklace doubles as a taser and she has another clip tucked at the side of her cleavage. It’s far from the arsenal she could have carried if she had been wearing a suit, but this kind of situation, unfortunately, calls for the glitzy, backless dress. </p>
<p>“And why can’t we just camp here?” Annette asks, looking nervous. She’s not dressed up tonight because she and Mercedes will be running ops out of their home base while the rest of the group is in the public eye. </p>
<p>“Because tonight is too important,” Dimitri answers. “It’s the Millennium Festival. I have to be seen.”</p>
<p>Ingrid presses her lips together, but she can’t argue. The Millennium Festival is the largest celebration in the country every year. Dimitri’s family is too prominent in society for him not to make an appearance at one of the major events. The same goes for Felix and Sylvain, but Ingrid is lucky enough to be able to be on duty tonight instead of parading around and flaunting her status. </p>
<p>Though it’s highly speculated that the Blaiddyd, Fraldarius, and Gautier families have ties to the Blue Lions, nothing has ever been pinned on them successfully. As an organization, the Blue Lions are clean. The Black Eagles have a similar situation to the Blue Lions with the powerful Aegir and Hresvelg families. The Golden Deer, on the other hand, have the Riegan, Gloucester, and Goneril families who work far less to hide their unsavoury ties. </p>
<p>“Alright,” Felix cuts in, waving Dimitri off, “we all know what’s happening. Let’s run through it again.”</p>
<p>“Annette and I are here. We’ll be coordinating comms, our people, and watching their people,” Mercedes starts, knitting her hands atop the table.</p>
<p>“Felix is on the floor at the gala and I’ll be shadowing him,” Ashe answers. </p>
<p>Ingrid looks briefly at Ashe. The Blue Lion’s most notorious sniper is dressed in a simple black suit for the occasion and she’s jealous for a moment. It’s a bit unfair that he gets to be in a suit to do essentially the same job as she is doing, but Ingrid knows a woman in a dress will make stand out less than if she had worn a suit. Maybe, if she had been on protective detail at the gala, she could have gotten away with the suit, but the casino is another beast altogether. </p>
<p>“I’ll be on the floor at the casino,” Sylvain continues. </p>
<p>“And I’m on him,” Ingrid tacks on, trying not to let her bitterness show through. </p>
<p>“Dedue and I will be at the casino as well, but we arrive later than you two,” Dimitri concludes. Dedue, also dressed in a simple black suit, nods. </p>
<p>Sylvain claps. “Sounds like we have a plan and that everyone knows the plan.”</p>
<p>Felix grunts and adjusts his suit, “Nobody gets killed. We have our own hits to carry out in the next few weeks and we can’t fall behind.”</p>
<p>Ingrid forces back a smile. Felix gets like this before tense missions often. “We know, Felix.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Once the limo is rolling down the street, Ingrid crosses one leg over the other and glares at Sylvain. He’s reclining in the seat across from her, looking far too relaxed for the tension-filled evening they are both facing. </p>
<p>“What?” she demands.</p>
<p>A smirk crawls across his face. “Nothing, nothing.” His fingers drum over his knee as he looks her up and down. “You look good.”</p>
<p>Ingrid scowls. “I hate this. Why couldn’t I be on gala security? Ashe knows the casinos better than I do anyway.”</p>
<p>Sylvain laughs. “Because, the last time we left you and Felix alone, five men died and only one was an accident. And, besides, I can’t roll up to a casino with Ashe as my detail. That’s both suspicious and also not at all inconspicuous.”</p>
<p>Ingrid huffs. “Right, because your reputation dictates that the pretty face attached to your arm when you arrive is basically invisible to everyone.”</p>
<p>Sylvain winks and Ingrid’s hand twitches in her lap as she resists the urge to punch him. “Exactly,” he agrees smugly. “But, hey, at least you agree with me that you’re beautiful!”</p>
<p>Ingrid closes her eyes and takes a deep, bracing breath. “I still think this is a terrible idea.”</p>
<p>Sylvain shrugs, still too relaxed for her taste. “We know they’re trying to hit Dimitri. We might as well be ahead of them, right? Send them to the wrong side?”</p>
<p>Ingrid doesn’t get a chance to reply before the car starts slowing down. Sylvain’s grin widens and he beckons her towards him. Ingrid sighs but uncrosses her legs and slides across the seats to his side. </p>
<p>As soon as the car stops moving, the door is opened and Sylvain steps out. He reaches back a moment later, offering her a hand, and Ingrid takes it. She is immediately assaulted by the sound of loud chatter and music from the glitzy building ahead of them. </p>
<p>Sylvain tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow and she fakes her best “unknown, rich heiress” smile as they walk up the steps to the front entrance of Fódlan’s Locket, the largest and most influential casino in Garreg Mach. </p>
<p>As soon as they hit the main floor, Ingrid’s hand still looped through Sylvain’s arm, she feels the eyes on them, but she can also feel the way that the stares glide over her to Sylvain, the true focus of their attention. His name is the big, influential one and his appearances here are consistent enough that people seem to have him mostly figured out. For tonight, Ingrid is just another pretty girl on illustrious playboy Sylvain Gautier’s arm, so no one gives her a second glance as they stroll through the casino. </p>
<p>Sylvain guides her towards the cards tables almost immediately, and Ingrid scans the area around them. She counts the casino’s security guards (31),  the undercover cops (5), contractors from the Golden Deer or Black Eagles (13), and the number of cameras (67), motion sensors (12), and exits (3). </p>
<p>“We’re in,” she says quietly to the comms unit in her ear. She’s currently connected to the global comms unit across the entire Blue Lions team. </p>
<p>“<em>Roger</em>,” Dedue’s grumbled reply comes after a moment. His reply buzzes on a different frequency: local comms, to protect Dimitri’s detail from being hacked. It means that he and Dimitri aren’t far behind her and Sylvain. </p>
<p>“<em>Felix and Ashe are in too</em>,” Mercedes replies over the global comms line. </p>
<p>“<em>And we were right,</em>” Felix mutters. “<em>She’s here.</em>”</p>
<p>Sylvain leans towards her a little bit. “I see von Hevring and von Bergliez. No sign of von Aegir or others.”</p>
<p>Ingrid turns her head to follow Sylvain’s gaze and sees the two men he had pointed out: Linhardt von Hevring and Caspar von Bergliez. Hevring comes from old money in the Black Eagles and covers a good portion of the finances while Bergliez is a muscleman. </p>
<p>“Is Aegir supposed to be here?” she asks. “I would think he would be at the gala.”</p>
<p>“<em>He is,</em>” Ashe answers quickly. “<em>I</em><em>t looks like he’s here with that movie star on Eagle payroll, Dorothea Arnault</em>.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Sylvain says, “well that saves us some worries.” He pats Ingrid’s hand. “I’m going to hit a table. Do you want to sweep the rest of the floor?”</p>
<p>“On it,” she agrees. She drops Sylvain’s arm and splits off from him, turning down a row of blackjack tables as Sylvain continues on towards the poker tables. </p>
<p>Ingrid continues observing the casino as she exits the cards table areas, still counting guards in her head and mentally calculating the best exit routes. They’re still on the first floor and Fódlan’s Locket has five floors of just casino-related activities, plus another twelve for the hotel that operates atop the casino. </p>
<p>She slips into a row of slot machines and snags a glass of champagne from a server. She takes a small sip as she continues her sweep, keeping up appearances as a shallow, rich girl. She pauses at a few machines, as if she’s considering playing a few rounds, but she keeps her clutch and wallet tightly closed. </p>
<p>“<em>Do we have eyes on von Vestra?</em>” Annette asks over comms. </p>
<p>It’s a fair question. Hubert von Vestra is Edelgard von Hresvelg’s right hand and it stands to reason that he should be at the gala downtown tonight if both Edelgard and Ferdinand von Aegir are there. </p>
<p>“<em>No sign of him,</em>” Felix reports back immediately. “<em>He’s not tailing Edelgard</em>.” </p>
<p>“That’s odd,” Ingrid murmurs.</p>
<p>“<em>Oh! Ingrid, Sylvain, we just picked up chatter that some of the Golden Deer might be hitting the floor tonight. Keep an eye out,</em>” Annette says, changing the subject.</p>
<p>“Shit,” Ingrid mutters. “I don’t suppose you’ve got names, do you?”</p>
<p>“<em>None yet. You are in the heart of their territory, though. Holst Goneril owns the Locket,</em>” Mercedes reminds. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Ingrid says. “Alright, I’ve swept as much of the floor as I can at the moment. I’ll head back to Sylvain now.”</p>
<p>“<em>Good!</em>” Sylvain says softly. “<em>Just in time to be my good luck charm</em>.” </p>
<p>She resists the urge to roll her eyes as she loops back through the rows of slot machines until she spots the high rollers table where Sylvain has claimed a seat. She moves through the crowd towards him, scanning the other faces around him. She swears that she spots someone familiar, but it disappears into the crowd too quickly for her to confirm anything. At this point, it’s not worth dwelling on. </p>
<p>She nears Sylvain’s table and notices that he has already accumulated a rather large stack of both chips and cash on the table in front of him, despite probably only having played a few hands. His eyes dart up to her and he gives her a grin as she approaches. A few of the other players seem to notice her arrival and Ingrid takes a deep breath, stepping towards the last seat at the table. </p>
<p>She’s too late though as a woman with vibrant pink hair slides into the seat before Ingrid gets within two feet of the table. Ingrid smoothly redirects to Sylvain’s side, ready to play her role as a decoration on Sylvain’s arm. Sylvain slides his chair back a fraction and shifts his leg. Ingrid recognizes the signal but is about ten seconds away from smacking him for suggesting it. Unfortunately, it’s at that point that she recognizes the woman who had claimed the last chair at the table. </p>
<p>Hilda Goneril is the youngest child of the Goneril Family, one of the Golden Deer’s most influential families and her brother owns the Locket. She will likely recognize Ingrid and has almost certainly already recognized Sylvain. Ingrid bites back her annoyance with Sylvain and steps closer to him, sliding into his lap. </p>
<p>Sylvain slides one hand to the bare skin of her back over her backless dress and rests the other hand atop her knee as he smiles at her. Ingrid slides one arm around his neck, running her fingers through the back of his hair as she lets Sylvain adjust her on his lap so that he can still hold his cards for the poker game. </p>
<p>Three of the players at the table don’t bat an eye at Ingrid sitting in Sylvain’s lap. She’s sure that this is beyond usual for Sylvain to have a pretty girl around while he plays cards. The last player, Hilda, eyes Ingrid and Sylvain with a small smirk. Her gaze flickers to Ingrid’s legs, noting the concealed weapon and then up to her ear, picking up on the hidden comm unit as well. Ingrid gives Hilda her best smile and drums her free hand on Sylvain’s chest, faking a flirtatious personality. </p>
<p>“So, Gautier,” Hilda starts, her tone light, “what brings you to the Locket tonight?”</p>
<p>Sylvain’s hand rubs small circles into Ingrid’s back, half on her bare skin and half on the silky fabric of her dress. He lifts his cards up, flashing a pair of Jacks for him and Ingrid to see, and then he smiles at Hilda. </p>
<p>“The best players in Garreg Mach play here,” he says cheerfully. “I was just up for a few hands. Is that a crime?”</p>
<p>The second half of his question dangerously pushes the bounds of “questions that may get them both shot”, but Hilda’s smile in return is amused as she tosses a few of her chips into the pot, matching a raise from one of the other players. </p>
<p>Sylvain matches her easily and raises an extra three hundred. Ingrid leans towards Sylvain, tucking her face around the side of his head so that Hilda can’t see her lips. “We’ve got Goneril on us,” she whispers over comms. </p>
<p>“<em>Hilda?</em>” Annette asks. </p>
<p>“Indeed,” Sylvain agrees out loud, matching the response to a knock on the table to check. </p>
<p>“<em>Alright, we’ll mark her down. We’ll keep a running list, so let us know if you see any of the other Golden Deer,” </em> Mercedes says. </p>
<p>Ingrid crosses her ankles and loops her other arm around Sylvain’s neck to pull herself closer to her. She has no idea how much Hilda knows about her, but it does mean that she and Sylvain probably won’t be able to sell this flirtatious act for long. She and Sylvain have played this act more than a few times in the past and it is wound up tightly in the history between them. Sylvain’s fingers are warm as they drum over her back as he considers his cards. </p>
<p>Hilda folds out of the round and crosses one leg over the other, her gold dress shimmering as she moves. She sets her eyes on Ingrid and Sylvain and Ingrid feels a bit like she is being dissected. She stays pressed closely against Sylvain and eventually Hilda looks back at the table, watching the round finish between Sylvain and one of the casino’s other patrons. Sylvain wins the round on two pairs and Ingrid shifts, almost sliding out of his lap, as he collects the chips. </p>
<p>Hilda’s manicured nails tap over the edge of the poker table and Ingrid’s heart stutters briefly and then almost stops altogether as a hand lands on Hilda’s shoulder from the crowd. Hilda doesn’t even react to it, but Ingrid almost jumps when she recognizes the heavy gold ring on the index finger. </p>
<p>The ring is shaped like a deer head with glinting emerald eyes in it. A deer isn’t usually an intimidating animal, but on the hand of Claude von Riegan, a lot of things can be intimidating. Claude presses out of the crowd, keeping a friendly hand on Hilda’s shoulder, as he steps up to observe the table. </p>
<p>His green eyes are sharp as they track over both her and Sylvain and Ingrid sees the note of recognition in them. </p>
<p>“Hello, Claude,” Sylvain greets openly, swapping his cards into the hand looped around Ingrid’s waist as he drops his right hand to her thigh. </p>
<p>“Sylvain,” Claude replies coolly. </p>
<p>“<em>Oh no,” </em> Annette mumbles over comms. </p>
<p>“<em>What is von Riegan doing at the Locket?</em>” Felix asks. “<em>Shouldn’t he be at the gala?</em>”</p>
<p>Ingrid smiles at Claude and he smirks in reply. Any hope that he doesn’t recognize her is immediately dashed as he walks around the outside of Hilda’s chair, letting his hand remain resting on her shoulder, the deer ring glinting in the light. </p>
<p>“What are you doing here?” Claude asks, his green eyes glinting. “Shouldn’t you be downtown?”</p>
<p>Sylvain shrugs, staying perfectly calm. “My father is more than enough representation for Gautier at the gala.” His smile is both sharp and elegant as he shoots it at Claude and Hilda. “Besides, this is more fun, wouldn’t you agree? Surely both of you received your own invitations to the gala?”</p>
<p>Claude chuckles. “Well, I won’t deny it and you’re right. This is much more <em> fun</em>.” </p>
<p>That way that he says ‘fun’ almost sends a shiver up Ingrid’s spine and her gaze drifts for a second, peeking into the crowd. Raphael Kirsten, Claude’s personal muscle, lingers just inside the ring of people observing the table and Ingrid swears she sees a pop of red hair as well that indicates Leonie Pinelli, one of the Golden Deer’s best enforcers. </p>
<p>She also catches a glimpse of dark hair and pale skin and a slim, black suit. She doesn’t think much of it at first glance, but then she recalls that Edelgard’s right hand is suspiciously absent from the gala and her eyes dart back, catching on the figure she had spotted the first time. Sure enough, Hubert von Vestra is standing in the crowd, his arms crossed as he pretends to observe the poker game that’s going on. </p>
<p>Ingrid sucks in a short breath and twists a lock of Sylvain’s hair around her finger as she quickly jerks her eyes back to him. His hand squeezes her knee in response to the movement, indicating that he knows she had spotted something. </p>
<p>“If you’ll excuse me,” Ingrid says once the round ends, “I’m going to use a restroom.”</p>
<p>Sylvain grabs one of her hands and lifts it to his lips. He kisses the back of her hand and then helps her out of his lap. Ingrid is about to bolt away from the table, when a different hand touches her arm and she tenses, almost jumping. </p>
<p>“Allow me to escort you,” Claude says smoothly and Ingrid can’t refuse the head of the Golden Deer on his home turf. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” she says instead, sliding her hand up until Claude holds it in the crook of his elbow. </p>
<p>They step into the crowd and move towards the rear of the room, moving through rows of slot machines again. Ingrid presses her lips together and lets her posture shift from girl to Blue Lion associate, keeping her weight on the balls of her feet in case she needs to bolt. </p>
<p>“So, Ingrid,” Claude remarks, leaning down a bit so that his breath tickles her ear. “What are the Blue Lions doing on my turf tonight?”</p>
<p>She swallows and keeps her breathing under control. “Just doing a bit of socializing,” she lies.</p>
<p>Claude laughs. “Right. And if I lean into your ear, am I on local or global comms?”</p>
<p>Caught, Ingrid withdraws her hand from his grip and turns to face him, putting a hand on her hip. “I could still level you,” she reminds. </p>
<p>Claude shrugs. “We’re in my part of town. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t find that particularly threatening.”</p>
<p>Ingrid narrows her eyes but doesn’t reply. Claude and the Golden Deer can’t find out that Dimitri will be here tonight because then the information might spread to the Black Eagles. Additionally, while the Blue Lions have no particular feud with the Golden Deer, it doesn’t mean that relations between the two mobs are squeaky clean. </p>
<p>“If you’ll excuse me,” Ingrid says tactfully, “I’m going to use the restroom.”</p>
<p>She walks away from Claude quickly, turning around a row of slot machines to duck out of his line of sight. She pauses, leaning against one as she adjusts a shoe, and notes that she can’t pick up on a tail, so she is probably in the clear. </p>
<p>“Listen up,” Ingrid says shortly into the comm. “Von Vestra is here at the casino. Dedue, what’s yours and Dimitri’s status?”</p>
<p>“<em>Second floor</em>,” Dedue replies immediately. “<em>I haven’t seen a tail yet, but they could just be observing at the moment</em>.” </p>
<p>“<em>Scratch that!</em>” Annette exclaims suddenly, cutting off Dedue’s reply halfway through. “<em>Ingrid, Dedue is off global comms, so you’ll have to notify him over local since we can’t reach him. We just received a hit on a Black Eagles network.</em>” </p>
<p>Ingrid tenses. “They’re hitting him here.” She immediately takes off towards the elevator, walking as fast as she can without breaking into a jog. </p>
<p>“<em>Yes,</em>” Mercedes confirms. “<em>They confirmed the op at the Locket is a go. You have to get to Dimitri.</em>”</p>
<p>“On it,” Ingrid replies quickly. She shifts to local comms. “Dedue, the Black Eagles just cleared an op for the casino. They know he’s here. Get him out of here.”</p>
<p>“<em>Shit</em>,” Sylvain mutters. It’s an acknowledgement that Ingrid is leaving him alone to pursue Dimitri’s safety, as planned and it’s probably the most he can manage while in front of other people.</p>
<p>“<em> We’re headed to the stairs now, </em>” Dedue reports back and Ingrid turns away from the elevator, spotting the stairwell on the far side of the floor from where Sylvain had been playing cards. </p>
<p>“Alright. I’ll get to the bottom of the stairs and clear you a path outward,” Ingrid fires back and starts squeezing through the crowds on the main casino floor towards the stairwell. </p>
<p>She gets almost halfway there when there’s a crackle of static from her comm. She winces but keeps moving. She can’t pick up a sightline on Vestra, Bergliez, or Hevring and that makes her worried for a moment. </p>
<p>Then, she hears a faint voice on the comms that sounds like someone else’s voice that has been picked up by the comm: </p>
<p>“<em>So, Felix, who are you with tonight?</em>” </p>
<p>Ingrid almost trips at the sound of Edelgard’s voice over Felix’s comm. </p>
<p>“<em>I’m alone</em>,” Felix replies gruffly. </p>
<p>There’s a murmured reply and then she picks up Felix’s line again. </p>
<p>“<em>Is that a threat, Edelgard?</em>”</p>
<p>Edelgard’s faint reply is drowned out by Ashe jumping in on the line. “<em>We have a problem</em>!” he hisses. “<em>Edelgard thought that Dimitri would be at the gala</em>.” </p>
<p>Ingrid abruptly stops, whipping her head around as she looks around. A Golden Deer contractor is watching her, but she can’t spot any of the Black Eagles that she had originally pin-pointed during her sweep. Her blood runs cold. </p>
<p>“<em>If she thought Dimitri would be at the gala, then who is she hitting at the casino?</em>” Mercedes questions. </p>
<p>“Fuck,” Ingrid swears, immediately pivoting and walking back across the ballroom towards where she left Sylvain. “She’s not hitting Dimitri here so that means she’s after Sylvain.”</p>
<p>“<em>Sylvain, like the Sylvain that you just abandoned across the room to get to Dimitri?</em>” Annette says, sounding a bit panicked. </p>
<p>Ingrid bites back another, stronger curse. “Yes,” she replies shortly. “Dedue, get Dimitri out of here. Just because they’re hitting Sylvain doesn't mean that they won’t try to hit him too if they see he’s here. I’m going after Sylvain.”</p>
<p>Dedue responds affirmatively, and Ingrid pushes through the crowds. She discreetly unhooks her necklace, and slides out her small knife mid-step, pressing both flat against her clutch to conceal them. When she returns back to where Sylvain had been playing cards, her heart sinks. She has been gone for less than five minutes, but Sylvain’s seat is now occupied by a man wearing a black iron pin of an eagle on his lapel. </p>
<p>Hilda and Claude have both vanished as well and Ingrid scans the crowd. There’s no sign of Vestra or Bergliez, but at the nearest bar, she does see the dark green hair of Linhardt von Hevring. A half-baked plan spins into her mind and she heads towards Linhardt. She steps up to the bar next to him and slides her knife back into its sheath. She pulls her gun and slides it into her clutch, leaving the top unbuttoned</p>
<p>He doesn’t bat an eye at her at first and Ingrid slides a few inches closer to him, bumping the edge of her clutch into him. He grumbles and looks at her. At first, there is no recognition in his face, but then he notices that her clutch is open and he sees the gun pointed at him. His expression doesn’t waver, but he does look at her face again, studying her. This time, there is a glimmer of recognition.</p>
<p>“Galatea,” he says calmly. “Didn’t expect to see you here?”</p>
<p>“That’s obviously a lie,” she replies cooly. “I would advise you to come with me slowly and calmly. We’re going to find somewhere to chat so you can answer some of my questions.”</p>
<p>Thankfully, Linhardt responds to the threat well and he slides his half-drunk glass across the bar to the bartender and turns around. Ingrid keeps the clutch pointed at him as he leads the way around the bar to a door at the side of the room. The door is unlocked and Linhardt opens it calmly. </p>
<p>Ingrid steps quickly into the hallway after him and lets the door shut behind them. “We need a room without a camera,” Ingrid instructs quietly. </p>
<p>Linhardt sighs and continues down the hallway until he reaches a nondescript door on the right side of the hall. He opens the room, leading her inside. The room is a small business room with a square table and four chairs. Ingrid keeps her gun on Linhardt as she does a quick scan. There are no immediately visible cameras and she doesn’t have the luxury of doing a full sweep to check for bugs or hidden cameras. </p>
<p>She pulls the gun out of her purse, dropping appearances and stares Linhardt down. “Where is he?”</p>
<p>“Gautier, I presume,” Linhardt says. He looks remarkably calm for a man being held at gunpoint and Ingrid is almost annoyed. </p>
<p>“Yes. Where is he?”</p>
<p>He considers the question. “Not here. They would have left immediately. Although, it’s probably only been a few minutes.”</p>
<p>Ingrid frowns. “Do better.” She lifts the gun higher, aiming at his head, and this time he does wince. </p>
<p>“Alright, alright. They’ve probably gone to the Remire.”</p>
<p>The Remire is a high-class hotel right on the edge of Black Eagle and Golden Deer territory. It makes sense that they would go there. It’s close enough to the Locket while also not directly in the heart of Golden Deer territory. If there are eyes at the Remire, they probably belong to the Black Eagles. It does, however, mean that getting Sylvain back is going to be more difficult than she had anticipated. </p>
<p>“Good,” she says. “What do they want with him?”</p>
<p>Linhardt leans against the table, eyeing her. “You’re not going to shoot me. You’ll never walk out of here if you do.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” Ingrid agrees. She clicks the safety off on her gun audibly. “Are you going to push me to find out?”</p>
<p>His lips press together, but he doesn’t challenge her again. “Information on the Blue Lions, most likely. In addition, information on those trade deals at the docks that are going down next month.”</p>
<p>That does make her tense. The Golden Deer control the biggest harbour in Garreg Mach and the Blue Lions have a big shipment coming in from Sreng next month. They’ve made a deal to cut the Deer in on twenty percent of the shipment in exchange for safe landing at the harbour, away from the prying eyes of the Black Eagles. </p>
<p>“Your phone,” Ingrid demands. “And any comm unit plus your ID card.”</p>
<p>Linhardt slowly reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a phone, dropping it to the ground and kicking it over to her. Ingrid keeps the gun on him as she bends down, picking it up. She steps closer to him and holds out her hand, waiting for his comm. He pulls it out of his ear and drops it into her hand. He then hands her his ID card.</p>
<p>She rolls the comm across her palm and looks at him. “Is there a breakage signal?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>She drops the comm to the ground and crushes it beneath the spike of her stiletto. She backs up towards the door, keeping her gun on Linhardt. “I think you know how this encounter ends, yes?”</p>
<p>He stays leaning against the table and taps across his heart in an x. “I don’t move and you don’t tell the Golden Deer I’m here.”</p>
<p>She smiles. “Glad we understand each other.” </p>
<p>With that, she spins on a heel and marches out of the room, hurrying out of the room, back into the hallway. She slides her gun back into its sheath as she moves through the door and then comes to a dead stop when she sees someone leaning against the opposite wall. </p>
<p>“Guess my hunch was right,” Claude says smugly. </p>
<p>Ingrid straightens her shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p>
<p>“My turf, remember?” Claude reminds. He digs into his pocket and pulls something out. Ingrid tenses, her hand straying back to her weapon, but it turns out that she’s not in danger as Claude fishes a set of car keys from his pocket. He tosses them to her and she fumbles them before she gets a solid grip. </p>
<p>She looks between him and the keys, frowning. “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>“Down this hall, take the first right and then head straight and you should hit a back door. The car is there,” Claude explains, ignoring her question. </p>
<p>Ingrid frowns but curls her hand around the keys. “What are you doing, Claude?” she asks again. </p>
<p>A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth. “It’s bad press for me if a Blue Lion disappears in my turf. It paints a pretty nice target on our back from the rest of your crew. Plus, Vestra drugged one of my men.”</p>
<p>Ingrid’s brow ticks up. “Thanks.”</p>
<p>She doesn’t stick around to hear his reply, taking off down the hall, following his directions. As soon as she bursts out of the building in the side alley, she spots the car. She checks the keys to be sure and it is definitely the car that Claude had handed to her. </p>
<p>“He’s at the Remire,” Ingrid says, reporting in on comms. “I’m heading there now.”</p>
<p>“<em>There probably won’t be time to get you back up,</em>” Mercedes replies. “<em>Ingrid, think this through.</em>” </p>
<p>“I don’t need back up,” she says, opening the door to the car. “I’ll get Sylvain myself.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>The Remire is a glimmering pillar of light as she approaches. She pulls the car to a stop at the front of the building and gets out. A valet immediately approaches her, holding out his hands for her keys. Ingrid forces a smile and hands the keys over. </p>
<p>“Keep the car close please,” she requests. “I just have to grab one thing.”</p>
<p>The valet nods and points to a small parking loop near the side of the building. “I’ll keep it there for you, ma’am.”</p>
<p>Ingrid smiles and immediately heads into the lobby of the Remire. In the lobby, she immediately picks out three plainclothes Black Eagles and one Golden Deer. She heads to the elevator in the lobby immediately, bypassing the desk, and takes Linhardt’s ID, scanning it. </p>
<p>She slides into the elevator and shuts the doors before anyone can come after her. One of the Black Eagles is watching her and Ingrid fakes a yawn, trying to pretend to just be a silly girl coming back to her hotel after a long night. She doesn't usually lie her way out of situations. She and Felix are much more likely to come out hot, but she knows that going in hot isn’t an option as it stands. </p>
<p>The elevator rises quickly, taking her to the Black Eagles’ private floor of the hotel. As soon as the doors open, Ingrid realizes that someone has met her at the elevators, probably having seen the ID code she had used to gain access. Caspar von Bergliez is talking before the doors are even open and Ingrid moves on pure instinct. </p>
<p>“Hey Lin, I thought you said you were sticking-” </p>
<p>Ingrid grabs him partway through the sentence and throws his weight around, slamming him into the wall. With her free hand, she unsheaths her knife, sliding it against his jugular as she pins him against the wall. Caspar nearly goes cross-eyed looking at her knife, his face paling. </p>
<p>“Where’s Linhardt?” he demands. </p>
<p>“Where’s Sylvain?” Ingrid counters. </p>
<p>They’re both silent for a moment and Ingrid knows that she has precious seconds before more Black Eagles show up. </p>
<p>“I’ll let you go if you tell me where he is,” she hisses lowly. </p>
<p>Caspar frowns. “Where’s Lin? If you hurt him-”</p>
<p>“I didn’t,” Ingrid snaps. “He’s at the Locket still. But, if you don’t tell me where Sylvain is, I make one call to a Golden Deer and he’s done.”</p>
<p>Caspar’s jaw sets. “Room 1213,” he says immediately. “Now, let me go.”</p>
<p>“Comm,” she insists, pushing the blade against his throat. </p>
<p>Caspar immediately rips his comm out, shoving it into her hand. Ingrid nods and steps back, keeping her blade up. Caspar doesn’t pay her a second glance as he ducks into the elevator, immediately beelining back to the lobby. Ingrid breathes out, relieved, and sheaths her knife again. She smooths out her dress and takes a deep breath. </p>
<p>She only has half an idea as she strides down the hallway, pausing part way through a step to pull off her heels and hold them in one hand. She rounds a bend in the hallway and immediately sees three men in tidy suits standing guard outside a hotel room. They tense when they see her and Ingrid immediately begins humming, stumbling a little. </p>
<p>She strolls forward, attempting to appear like she is going to walk right past them, but then one of the men, holds out an arm, stopping her. She grabs the arm and giggles, leaning into him, batting her eyelashes. She can only pray that they buy the drunken act for a few more moments. </p>
<p>“You can’t be here,” one of the men says roughly. </p>
<p>Ingrid laughs. “I’m just trying to get to my room!” she says, slurring her words a bit. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, none of the men look phased, so Ingrid drops the act. She twists the arm of the man she’s holding, yanking him down. He stumbles and she slams her elbow against the side of his head, dropping him temporarily. She spins, lashing out at the next nearest man with her heels. Her stilettos crack off as she slams the shoes across his face and he growls and rears back. </p>
<p>Ingrid goes for her taser at the same time as the last man reaches for a weapon. He lunges at her, holding a knife, and she ducks under his strike, slamming the point of her necklace into his armpit and triggering the taser. The man jolts and goes down, completely out. Ingrid turns around then just in time to deflect a punch thrown by the first guard that she had dropped. </p>
<p>She strikes the back of his elbow as his arm glides by her and kicks at his knee. The man she hit with her shoes grabs at the back of her dress and she kicks back blindly, striking him in the stomach. Ingrid draws her own knife and sinks it into the shoulder of the first man and then kicks out his knees. She grabs his head and slams it against the wall with a thud. The man drops like a stone this time and Ingrid doesn’t have time to turn before the third man is upon her. </p>
<p>He’s holding a baton and she grunts as he strikes at her legs with it. Her legs get a bit wrapped in the long fabric of her dress as she stumbles back, lifting her hands to deflect the punch he throws. She sticks her foot out, hooking one of his and uses his momentum against him, shoving him forward and whipping her elbow against his head. She spins around him, drawing her gun, and cracking him in the back of the head to finish the job. </p>
<p>He slumps down like the other two men and Ingrid takes a deep breath, exhaling through her nose. Her leg hurts like a bitch, but she doesn’t have time to worry about it. She bends down, jerking out her knife, and wipes it off on the jacket of the man she had stabbed. She reaffixes her necklace and squares her shoulders, staring at the hotel room door the men had been guarding.  </p>
<p>Sure enough, it’s room 1213. Ingrid considers the locked door for a moment before she swipes Linhardt’s card. To her surprise, the lock beeps affirmatively and the door unlocks. Ingrid slams it open, raising her gun as she steps into the room. </p>
<p>The suite is lit only by a lamp on the desk, casting a dim yellow glow around the room, but the light is enough for her to notice the two figures in the room. The first is a man that Ingrid is intimately familiar with: Sylvain is seated in a chair in the middle of the room, his chin tucked down against his chest. In the poor lighting of the room, Ingrid can still see that his jacket is gone and his shirt is stained with blood. There’s a shadow on his face that she presumes is a developing black eye. </p>
<p>The second figure is Hubert von Vestra, pointing a gun straight at the back of Sylvain’s head. His expression is perfectly calm, even as Ingrid raises her own gun, pointing it at him. </p>
<p>“Galatea,” Hubert greets plainly. </p>
<p>“Vestra,” she replies. </p>
<p>Sylvain stirs at the sound of his voice, his head lifting. She makes eye contact with him and gives him a slight, worried smile. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” Sylvain mutters. “Got the comm before I could warn you.”</p>
<p>“Stop talking, Sylvain,” she orders. She refocuses her attention on Hubert who seems amused by the interaction. “Let him go, Vestra.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think you’re in the position to be making threats, Miss Galatea. After all, you’re pretty far from Lion territory right now, aren’t you?” Hubert says coolly. </p>
<p>Ingrid keeps her gun steady. “Won’t stop me from shooting you.”</p>
<p>“I’ll shoot him. You know I will. And we both know what follows that.”</p>
<p>A shootout here will mean war with the Black Eagles, something that the Blue Lions have been trying to avoid. </p>
<p>Ingrid drops her gaze back to Sylvain, locking eyes with him. His chin lifts the tiniest bit as he reads her expression. There’s a glint of recognition in his eyes that makes her think that they have the same idea. She doesn’t say anything to Hubert as she stares him down, counting down from ten in her head. </p>
<p>Sylvain acts a bit sooner than she had expected, on seven, as he jerks his head back, unbalancing his chair and knocking into Hubert’s weapon. The chair topples backwards with a crash and Ingrid doesn’t hesitate, taking the shot that she’s given. Her aim is true and Hubert grunts, crumpling, as she shoots him in the shin. Ingrid dives forward, snatching his gun away. She draws her knife and immediately cuts the zip ties around Sylvain’s wrists and helps him up out of the toppled chair. </p>
<p>She doesn’t have much of an opportunity to check on him, but she does confirm her suspicion that he has a black eye. She grabs him by the arm and shoves Hubert’s gun into his hand. Sylvain stumbles along with her as they hurry out of the hotel room. </p>
<p>Ingrid almost trips over her dress as she runs, the extra length of it is no longer compensated for by her heels, and Sylvain grabs her arm in return, steadying her. They run away from the main elevator towards the side of the building, following the emergency exit signs. Sylvain slams open the stairwell door and they hurry down. </p>
<p>“Well that was certainly a plan,” he huffs as they run. </p>
<p>“Did you have a better one?” she snaps, pausing to look up the stairwell in case of pursuers. </p>
<p>“No, not really,” Sylvain admits, passing her on the stairs. “How’d you find me?”</p>
<p>“Threats,” she answers vaguely as they pass the sixth floor, halfway to the ground. </p>
<p>“Good call. Vestra drugged me,” he informs. “You disappeared and there was a needle prick and I was done.”</p>
<p>“Damn,” she mutters, grabbing the railing to save herself from skidding down a few stairs. She jerks her dress around her, huffing. “I hate this stupid dress,” she grumbles. </p>
<p>“Still looks good,” Sylvain replies immediately. </p>
<p>Ingrid scowls and pushes his back, urging him faster. “Flirt later, after I’ve saved your ass.” </p>
<p>Above them, a door slams open and they hear yelling. Ingrid pushes Sylvain again and he finally hurries down the last two flights of stairs. He moves to go through the door into the main part of the lobby, but she grabs his arm, heading for the emergency exit. With the hand that she’s still holding her gun in, she yanks the fire alarm right next to the door and kicks the door open. </p>
<p>The alarm starts to blare as they burst out to the side of the building. Thankfully, they have been let out right in close to where Ingrid had had the valet keep the car. Sylvain looks around, frowning. </p>
<p>“Now what?”</p>
<p>She points out the car. “Wait by that one. I have to grab the keys.”</p>
<p>She balances herself on his shoulder, lifting her leg and hastily holstering her gun. Then she nudges him towards the car and breaks for the front of the hotel. The valet is standing there, looking startled at the alarm that’s blaring through the hotel. </p>
<p>“Hey!” she yells. </p>
<p>He spins towards her and seems shocked to see her. Ingrid realizes, belatedly, that she probably looks more than a bit dishevelled. She’s sure that her hair is a mess and she’s missing her shoes. He barely manages to hold the keys out to her before she is snatching them and hurrying back to the car. </p>
<p>She unlocks the car and waves frantically at Sylvain. “Get in!” she yells. </p>
<p>He nods and is about to duck into the car when his gaze darts up and his eyes widen. “Ingrid, duck!”</p>
<p>She stutters her steps and drops to a crouch right as there’s a sharp crack of a sniper from overhead. As soon as the gun fires, she swears and breaks forward, dashing for the car. She hugs the side of it and slips into the driver’s seat, hurriedly starting the car. Sylvain hunches low in the passenger seat as more gunfire sounds, immediately followed by screaming. </p>
<p>Ingrid slams her foot on the gas and the tires screech as the car takes off, shooting out of the parking lot. The people flooding the street in front of the hotel shriek and dive out of the way of the speeding car and Ingrid’s jaw sets as she jerks the wheel, sharply turning right onto the road that leads more firmly into Golden Deer territory. </p>
<p>“We’re loose,” she says, reporting into the comms. </p>
<p>“<em>Sothis, Ingrid, every alarm in the Remire area just went off,</em>” Felix curses. </p>
<p>She scowls and hangs a sharp left onto a busy street. “I didn’t really have a choice. Sylvain and I are loose, but we are hot.”</p>
<p>“<em>Alright, well, you should probably head to Ailell to cool down before you come anywhere near Fhirdiad.</em>”</p>
<p>She presses her lips together and steals a glance in the rearview mirror. “I don’t think we’re being tailed.”</p>
<p>“<em>Driving all the way through Deer turf is a long time to pick up a tail,” </em> Felix reminds and Ingrid sighs. </p>
<p>“Fine. We’ll head to Ailell. Have the usual room expecting us.”</p>
<p>“<em>Will do.</em>” There’s a pause. “<em>Good work,</em>” Felix finishes finally. </p>
<p>Ingrid sighs and pulls her comm out of her ear, dropping it into the cupholder between her and Sylvain, who is staring at her. </p>
<p>“We have to cool down,” Ingrid tells him. </p>
<p>Sylvain nods. “I gathered.”</p>
<p>“You’re okay?”</p>
<p>He shrugs. “Probably? Nothing serious.”</p>
<p>“Alright.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Ingrid parks the car at the shaded side of the Ailell Motel and they walk around the outside of the building to the stairs at the back which are out of sight from the main road. They had monitored carefully in the drive for a tail, but they had apparently managed to get out mostly cleanly and had made it unpursued to Ailell. They hadn’t checked in on comms again, but Annette had texted Ingrid a news article reporting shots fired at the Remire, which isn’t a good sign for them. </p>
<p>Ingrid leads the way up the stairs to the second floor of the motel and over to the usual room that the Blue Lions use when they need to keep a low profile. As expected, the door is unlocked and Ingrid turns the handle, letting them both into the room. </p>
<p>Ingrid heads for the bathroom immediately, jerking the cupboard doors open and pulling out the first aid kit that’s under the sink. She marches back into the main room just as Sylvain is removing two of his rings and his watch, placing them on the desk. </p>
<p>“Shirt off,” she says, brandishing the first aid kit at him. </p>
<p>Sylvain turns to her, his eyebrows rising. “What?”</p>
<p>She points to the bloodstains on his shirt. “Off. And sit on the bed.”</p>
<p>She must look particularly stubborn at that moment as Sylvain doesn’t argue with her. He hastily unbuttons his shirt and starts pulling it off. She catches the wince that crosses his face as he does and then she sees the dark bruising along his ribs that probably had caused him the pain. She frowns and walks towards him, pushing him back until he sits on the bed. </p>
<p>Ingrid uses one of her legs to nudge Sylvain’s legs apart and then steps between them, dropping the first aid kit onto the mattress next to him. Before she starts trying to treat him, she studies him, cataloguing his injuries. </p>
<p>He has a blooming black eye, a cut on his bottom lip, a bruise on the side of his neck and top of his right shoulder and then two larger bruises on his ribs. There is also a shallow cut near his hairline that had probably been the source for the blood on his shirt. </p>
<p>Ingrid opens the first aid kit and pulls out an alcohol wipe. She tears the packaging and makes eye contact with Sylvain as she lifts it towards his forehead. </p>
<p>“Don’t move,” she instructs and then doesn’t give him a chance to as she lightly dabs the wipe against his cut. He winces but steadies himself as she carefully wipes the edge of the cut and cleans the rest of the blood off of his face. With the same cloth, she cleans around the outside of the small split on his cheekbone near his black eye. </p>
<p>She folds up the wipe and tucks it back into the packaging, dropping it onto the bed next to the first aid kit. She presses her lips together and assesses the rest of his injuries. Besides some painkillers and rest, there isn’t really anything that she can do for him. </p>
<p>“Anything else?” she asks.</p>
<p>He shakes his head. “These will just need time.” She moves to step back, but Sylvain lifts a hand to her back and holds her in place. “What about you?”</p>
<p>She rolls her eyes and pulls out of his touch. “I’m fine. Barely got hit.”</p>
<p>She gathers up the garbage and the first aid kit, heading back to the bathroom. Sylvain trails after her and Ingrid fights the urge to close the door in his face. He doesn’t stick right to her side, lingering in the doorway as she stands in front of the sink, appraising herself in the mirror. </p>
<p>Her leg and ribs hurt from her fight at the Remire, but she’s in better shape than Sylvain is because she had been the attacker in the situation. Her elegant hairstyle is barely holding together with a few wisps of blonde hair trickling out the bottom and sides of it. Ingrid lifts a hand up and starts pulling pins out of her hair. </p>
<p>“Wait,” Sylvain says, stepping fully into the bathroom. “Let me, please.”</p>
<p>Ingrid lowers her hands and nods slowly. Sylvain steps up behind her until she can feel the heat from his chest as he lifts his hands to her hair, carefully digging out the pearl-embedded pins that Mercedes had painstakingly placed into her hair. Ingrid watches in the reflection as his brow furrows in concentration. </p>
<p>“What happened tonight?” she asks him. </p>
<p>Sylvain pauses, shrugging. “Honestly, I’m not sure. You disappeared because of the call about Dimitri and the next thing I knew, Vestra was brushing against me with a needle and I was out.”</p>
<p>“What happened to Hilda? I left you with at least two Golden Deer almost sitting on you.”</p>
<p>“She went after Claude shortly after you left. Leonie followed her and Raphael had already followed Claude,” Sylvain explains. </p>
<p>Ingrid hums and falls silent as Sylvain keeps fishing out the last few pins. “You’re okay though, right?”</p>
<p>Sylvain laughs lightly. “Aw, come on, Ingrid. I’m just a little banged up. You pinned it down way faster than they anticipated and you got to the Remire in record speed. How’d you threaten someone into telling you where we’d be?”</p>
<p>She feels a smile curl up on her face as she drops her eyes down to stare into the basin of the sink. There are a few flecks of rust on the drain of the sink and a small chip in the ceramic of the basin. “I may have threatened Linhardt von Hevring at gunpoint.”</p>
<p>Sylvain accidentally jabs a pin into her skull as he laughs. Ingrid flinches at the prick and he mumbles a small apology. “Smart. I figured he might have left when Bergliez muscled me out of there.”</p>
<p>“They were on Deer turf too,” she reminds. “He probably couldn’t dip immediately. It was enough to mention that I left him stranded at the Locket to get Caspar to disappear. And, well, you know what happened with Hubert.”</p>
<p>Sylvain’s reflection nods as he pulls the last pin out of her hair. “Admirable restraint,” he compliments. </p>
<p>Ingrid scoffs. “I shot him.”</p>
<p>He shrugs as he reaches around her to place the last pin on the edge of the sink. He reaches back up and cards his fingers gently through her hair, loosening it fully out of the updo that it had been in. He doesn’t move back and Ingrid studies him in the mirror. </p>
<p>“If our positions had been reversed,” Sylvain says casually, “I probably would have shot Hevring, Bergliez, and Vestra.”</p>
<p>Ingrid spins around and Sylvain awkwardly lowers his hand, but he still doesn’t move back so that they are chest-to-chest in front of the bathroom sink. “They’re three of the most well-established Black Eagles. Sylvain, that’s the kind of shit that starts wars.”</p>
<p>A faint smile quirks on his lips. “I said what I said, Ingrid.”</p>
<p>She frowns. “I still might have started a war by shooting him.”</p>
<p>Sylvain shrugs. “I disagree. They struck first. You were striking back. Yeah, killing them probably would have been a bit much, but if I know you, you probably didn’t kill any of them, even the ones you knocked out.”</p>
<p>Ingrid raises an eyebrow. “And to think, just hours ago, you were reminding me that Felix and I killed five people last time we went on an op together.”</p>
<p>Sylvain smiles and Ingrid’s heart flips. She hasn’t forgotten that he’s still entirely crowded in her space, but the tingling in her veins isn’t entirely foreign to her. She lifts her chin the tiniest fraction, waiting for his reaction. There’s a glimmer of something in his eyes, but he doesn’t further anything or back down. </p>
<p>“I like that about you though,” he says. His voice has dropped significantly in volume as the space between them has closed almost unintentionally. “But, it does mean that we left the place hot.”</p>
<p>“Hm,” she hums in agreement. “Guess we have to cool off.” </p>
<p>One of Sylvain’s hands lands on her waist and slides around to rest against the bare skin of her back, over her backless dress as he hums. “I guess we do, don’t we?” His eyes track down over her and his throat bobs as he swallows. “As pretty as this dress is, it can’t be terribly comfortable.”</p>
<p>Ingrid rocks up just the tiniest bit, pushing against the sink behind her until their lips are just a hair’s width apart. “I don’t know,” she murmurs. “Maybe you should make me a better offer?”</p>
<p>Sylvain’s eyes close and he looks like he’s about to kiss her and Ingrid’s chest clenches as she turns her head, suddenly losing her nerve. Sylvain’s lips brush against her temple. Ingrid takes a shaky breath and Sylvain leans away just enough to study her face, his eyes open again.</p>
<p>“What are we doing, Sylvain?” she says quietly. “We keep doing this.”</p>
<p>“Falling into bed?” he questions. </p>
<p>She sighs. “I don’t know. I guess that’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? This is, what, the fourth time in five weeks?”</p>
<p>Sylvain chuckles. “Come on, Ing,” he urges gently. The hand on her back rubs a smooth circle into her skin. His other hand comes up to cup the side of her face. She is almost caught off guard by the affectionate glint in his eyes. “Did you really think that was all this was?”</p>
<p>Her lips part and she feels suddenly breathless. “I don’t know,” she stutters. “We just never said anything and I thought-”</p>
<p>Sylvain cuts her off by kissing her, sliding the hand on her face back to cup the back of her head. She melts into the kiss, pressing her palms lightly against the warm skin of his chest. He kisses her until she basically melts into him and accidentally presses against one of his bruises. He winces and pulls back. His eyes are twinkling in the yellow light of the motel bathroom. </p>
<p>“Does it help if I mention that I’m very much in love with you?” he asks. </p>
<p>She laughs and can’t help the smile that creeps up on her face. “Mm,” she hums, walking her index and middle fingers down his chest towards the waistband of his pants. “I guess that does help.”</p>
<p>Sylvain kisses her forehead. “I’m not joking,” he says, more seriously. “I do love you. More than I probably should, given the situation.”</p>
<p>She leans up and kisses him on the lips, moulding their lips together as she gently pushes him back, out of the bathroom. “I love you too,” she mumbles against his lips. “But, right now, I’m trying to avoid a certain type of cooling off, and I thought you might be able to help with that.”</p>
<p>Sylvain smiles into the kiss and then his lips drift up the side of her face towards her ear as he backs up towards the bed. “Oh, I can probably do something about that.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>as always, I'm on <a href="https://twitter.com/nicolewrites37">Twitter</a></p>
<p>this may be continued/explored at a further date but we'll see ;)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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